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dan's words, " The others are already here," had implied that
they were expected, and presumably that they were expecting
him. He knew Professor Ball, all right, even if not much
more than by sight. But he hadn't seen him in years. Had
a farm over in Hunter County and wrote letters to the
papers about the preservation of fertility and all. Letters full
of quotations from Thomas Jefferson and old John Taylor,
and from the Latin—Virgil mostly, he remembered. And he
ran an academy for boys. But Mr. Munn had never heard of
Doctor MacDonald.

" I knew your uncle," Professor Ball was saying, " over in
our section."

"Uncle Mord?" Mr. Munn asked.

" Mordecai Munn, and a fine Christian gentleman he was,
I can assure you. The happy warrior, for a fact now,

' Who, doomed to go in company with Pain,
And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train !
Turns his necessity to glorious gain':

Mordecai Munn, his spitten-image."

*' I'm glad to hear you say that," Mr. Munn said.

" You might say "we led forth our flock together, as the
poet puts it, for we were in Professor Bowie's old academy
together. Yes, sir, side by side, and I knew him well Smart
as a whip he was, and a spirited boy, but not an apt scholar,
I regret to state. Many's the time he said to me, 'Now,
Beany '-—for they called me by that name, having begun by
calling me Beanpole, I always being spare-made, boy as well
as man—'Now, Beany, you do my Cicero for me, and 111
lend you my cap-and-ball when you go squirrel hunting next
time/ And I would do it all right, and like as not I never
took the loan of his cap-and-ball, never till this day being
much of a sporting man, and even then having a love of the
beautiful and eloquent word. But Mordecai, you might say
he scarce took a sup of the Pierian spring, so to speak. He
couldn't sit still, it seemed like, I'd speak with him and
remonstrate sometimes, but he'd say, * You know, Beany, if I
Just sit still I go to sleep/ And he did, for a fact—sound